


Incarcerous

by rjosettes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bondage, F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5129126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjosettes/pseuds/rjosettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison flexes her wrists against the whisper-soft fabric tying them to the posts at the head of Lydia's bed. They feel like nothing, the flimsy, fashionable scarves that never do Lydia any good when the chill of fall and then winter sets in. If it weren't for the magic that Lydia seems to exude, Allison would be be loose with a single, gentle tug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incarcerous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TW_FallHarvest](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=TW_FallHarvest).



> Written for the Fall Harvest with D/s, Hogwarts AU, and a few really great ships requested! Many thanks to my amazing beta.

Allison flexes her wrists against the whisper-soft fabric tying them to the posts at the head of Lydia's bed. They feel like nothing, the flimsy, fashionable scarves that never do Lydia any good when the chill of fall and then winter sets in. If it weren't for the magic that Lydia seems to exude, Allison would be be loose with a single, gentle tug.

Not that she means to get free. Here, hidden away behind heavy emerald curtains and a liberally reinforced Muffliato, on her back and at Lydia's mercy...well, there's nowhere Allison would rather be. She's never asked Lydia whether it's Stiles or Derek that's teaching her all of these neat bondage tricks, mostly because she's afraid to embarrass Derek or hear too much from Stiles. Instead, she's just grateful for the bliss of the choice being taken from her. How and where to touch Lydia, what to do with her body when it's too good or not enough.

Like right now, when Allison hovers somewhere between the two, strung out on touch. Lydia's fingers are small but sure inside her, curving and pressing and making her gasp wetly into the stuffy air around them. She grits her teeth against the rising pleasure, resolute not to break the promise she'd made to Lydia on a barely-caught breath.

“Don't come,” Lydia had whispered into her ear, the ghost of her lips sending fine shivers through Allison's body. She'd nodded frantically, eager to please, but it hadn't been enough to make the fingertips brushing her hips and thighs find their way any faster. The sheets wrinkled and gathered under back as she squirmed, waiting, trying to be good, until Lydia had smiled and asked her to say it, to swear it.

Allison doesn't regret it. The press of Lydia's thumb against her clit hadn't been torture then, not when she'd still ached to be touched. It's a game they've played since the start of all of this, really – letting Lydia give her body attention in only the ways she wants to, leaving her oversensitive but unsatisfied. With her hands free, though, it had been different. It wasn't so hard to distract her girlfriend with her own touches and teasing. She knows by heart the weight of Lydia's soft breasts in her palm, almost perfectly round and dimpling under her fingers. The curve of her belly is just shy of ticklish, riding the edge until her mouth drops open, pink tongue hovering just behind the edge of her teeth but never asking Allison to stop. Without the scarves, teasing is a game that they play with each other, putting them on an even footing.

With them, Allison feels ten feet underwater, separated from reality in a way that slows everything around her. Lydia is a smear of creamy pale and a shock of orange between her legs, a feeling that she gets in her chest, the smell of lavender lingering long after Potions class. She knows that nearby Erica and Malia are sleeping, that in the morning she has a long day in Hogsmeade planned. It's a far away sort of knowing that can't touch her here, as if the bed is the boundary of her world and everything outside the curtains has somehow ceased to exist for now. Because Allison needed it. Because Lydia willed it. Just the thought can leave her near euphoria – they can stop the world for this and take what they want from it.

No one has ever touched her the way that Lydia does. She'd had sex before the two of them finally gave up on hiding from one another, good sex with people she cared for. Lydia's body against hers this way doesn't feel like sex anymore, not the sex she's always known. Her heart only races with their clothes still on, going over their plans with fingers laced together and color high on their cheeks. The anticipation excites her with the promise of something more than pleasure, something better. Being challenged is the greatest gift in Allison's life and Lydia spoon-feeds it to her with the cruelest, gentlest hands.

Her tongue is every bit as cruel, circling slow, a reminder that Lydia could unmake her at any moment. Allison's arousal is a stray thread, and one strong tug would end this all, send her sobbing into orgasm with no way to stop. Luckily, she knows that, unlike her family, her teachers, Lydia will never set her up for failure. They're walking this line together, and neither of them will stray as long as they can hold the moment, the sweat beading on Allison's forehead and the wet sounds her body makes so loud in her ears. Humiliating her has never been the point and making sure she has a fighting chance is only fair. She'll take every bit of what she can handle for Lydia, and in turn Lydia is careful, calculating like she is in everything.

That's why there's no doubt in Allison's mind that Lydia knows she's reaching her limit. What little control of her body she does have is slipping, hips pressing up for more without consulting her first. The whine caught in her throat grows so loud that she misses Lydia's voice until they're face to face, Lydia's slick mouth rounding out sounds that take a moment to process, wet fingers holding her to attention by the chin.

“Are you okay?” They've gone far enough that she knows better to expect more than a jerky nod from Allison. Her smile is so big, her wide mouth split from one side to the other with something that looks, to Allison, like pride. She can feel herself soaking in it, insides glowing warm and muscles relaxing one by one until she's deep into the mattress. Her wrists tug harder on her bonds, nothing more than the weight of her body at rest, and her heart leaps into her throat. Lydia could do anything to her right now and she'd take it, she wouldn't mind a bit because she'd know it came from love. From pride. “You've been so good for me, sweetheart. I'm going to make you come.”

The pillow dips beneath Allison's head as her eyes fall shut, relief setting in before Lydia's mouth can make its way down her body again. Her body's release is secondary at this point; what she needs most, she's been given – Lydia's permission to let go. The sharp prick of thumbnails high on her thighs makes her skip a heartbeat. She spreads wide to make some room, feeling the tickle of hair against her smooth skin as Lydia holds her open and dives in.

It's not instant, as she'd expected it to be. It has been before, her body on a hair trigger even when she's not being pushed so hard. Two weeks haven't passed since she came, astonished, from nothing more than the press of Lydia's thigh as she was being deeply and thoroughly kissed. The build is slower now despite the flick of a clever tongue and the pull of lovingly pursed lips, a heat and slickness that manages to stand out where she's already overheated and dripping. Anticipation darts through Allison's veins the closer she gets, feeling the wave of pleasure rise until she could drown it. Slipping under isn't a decision so much as an inevitability.

Allison's felt a lot of strange, magical sensations in her life – her first solo apparation, entering a Pensieve, and, possibly the weirdest, traveling regularly by Floo powder for years. Nothing has ever felt quite so much like an out of body experience as the first few moments after coming. Her grandfather himself couldn't convince her to open her eyes, not when she's melting back into her body by degrees, the places where her skin touches Lydia's waking up first. It's longer still before she notices the gentle voice in her ear, not demanding her attention but filtering in. It's like waking up from a sweet dream to something twice as beautiful – and Allison would know.

The first thing she's fully aware of is her wrists being untied, one by one, by nimble little fingers. The second is that there's sweat running into her eyes. Lydia, ever prepared, mops her forehead down with something cool but not damp – probably yet another spell she's gathered up from her research. This, at least, is something she might've learned from Madam McCall without having to ask about sex, specifically. Lydia has a way of making friends of the adults in the castle and the town nearby, always seeking out contacts that can give her a leg up. Their school nurse – and Scott's mother, no small honor in Lydia's eyes – is the warmest of them, always offering help, magical or otherwise. “Melissa?” Allison asks, seeking blindly to settle her now dry face on Lydia's chest. Lydia's hand gently guides her to the comfy resting place, stroking along her cheek.

“Boyd,” she corrects. “He has to have a lot of magic in his back pocket, just in case.” Erica isn't the kind of girl that gives off a need to be taken care of, but with the unpredictability of her 'falling sickness' – even Allison, as Pureblood as they come, knows the name for epilepsy – her needs are different. A Ravenclaw boyfriend can't hurt. “You'd be surprised how much research and advice went into this.”

Allison hums in disagreement, the shake of her head jiggling Lydia's breasts in a way that makes both of them laugh. “Nope.” Lydia being incredibly dedicated and thorough might have surprised someone in first year, but the number of NEWTs she's taking is enough of a tip-off on its own at this point. Being her best friend and girlfriend means the day Lydia surprises Allison can only be an unpleasant one.

The sheets creep up, seemingly of their own accord, and Allison tucks away a question or two about wandless, wordless magic that she hopes she'll remember later. It's a monumental effort to speak at all right now, much less put together something Lydia would understand on such a complex subject. Instead, she enjoys the silkiness of the sheets, absolutely not standard for Hogwarts bedding but exactly what you'd expect to grace Lydia Martin's bed. Her own linens at home aren't half as fine. She'd rather fall asleep and wake up here than anywhere else in the world. Gryffindor Tower can do without her.

“Well. Maybe I didn't surprise you.” Lydia's voice is light, her small hand splayed on Allison's shoulder. “But I was pleasantly surprised. I didn't think you were ever going to say uncle.” It's a saying she's picked up from Stiles, one they both puzzled over at first and latched onto after, getting more than a few strange looks from the Muggleborns around them before they'd quite gotten the hang of it. “I was scared my fingers would wear out before you did. I had a backup, though, just in case.” Allison's eyes pop open at that, intrigued, and Lydia hugs her closer with a cryptic smile. “Later. Right now you need to rest. You deserve a break after being such a good girl.” The cool cloth from before skates up her thigh, carefully cleaning, tiny shocks of sensation at every movement. It'd taken until Lydia for Allison to realize that she could be so wet that it might make her uncomfortable to sleep that way.

The haze of satisfaction is blurring into a drowsy fog as Allison floats between the waking and dreaming worlds, listening to Lydia as she goes on. She feels like a small girl again sometimes, the reassurance that she's done well like an especially sweet bedtime fairy tale. The feeling lingers even as the words slip in one ear and out of the other, lulling her to sleep in Lydia's arms along with promises of tomorrow – their day out with Kira, Malia, and the boys. All of them together here for one last year before Allison and Lydia will sleep in one bed all year round, years full of nights like this and others, when she gets to please Lydia with her hands free and her mind clear.

She thinks she's going to miss the dungeons most of all.


End file.
